Nothing makes this job feel more worthwhile than getting to deal with a pair of hysterical chicks on the phone, and when they're a mother and daughter tag teaming it? Pure gold.

Look, I sympathise, I really do. I'm sure they're scared when the call comes in, and maybe 50% of the time, they have something to be scared about. It can't be easy getting through life, knowing that half of the people you meet could snap your neck with a flick of their wrists. If I was a woman, I'd probably be crazy, too, because let's face it, a whole bunch of us guys are even crazier than they are.

But, look. The other half of the time, there's some normal guy in the wrong place at the wrong time, wondering what hit him and thinking we're the bad guys. Sometimes, maybe we are, and these are my boys that I'm talking about. And girl. Yeah, Lucy, I mean, officer Miceli, I remember you, and don't think that Internal Affairs doesn't remember you, too.

This is the fact. We're just city cops, and stalking is a federal offense, so scary or not, we've got no jurisdiction. We move in, maybe we get busted, and if you're a cop, prison is one place you don't want to be. Some good friends we've got in there, let me tell you.

So, I tell them this, and hope they understand, but they're just getting more scared, asking me if I'll be satisfied when they're dead. Of course I won't be satisfied, what do you think I am, I ask. I'd be sad, it'd be awful, and I hope that doesn't happen, but what makes her so sure that ...

"That those drunken crazies screaming in our back stairwell will do something crazy?", she asks.

"Public drunkenness?", I ask, cheering up right away. "Now that, I can do something about." Me, and ten squad cars, you bet.

Those guys were probably relieving themselves right in front of the church, just like somebody did last week. Not on my watch, buddy! Not on my watch!